The Perils of Desire
by Desire's Face
Summary: Harry's destiny sets him on the path to greatness - But will he be great and good or great and terrible?
1. Chapter 1

Harry walked into the store to see a squat looking woman wearing mauve robes, who smiled at himwarmly, "Hogwarts, dear?" she asked brightly.

Harry feeling more than a little nervous nodded his head, silently, which caused the witch to smile gently, "Got the lot here, there's another student here right now, actually."

Harry was lead to the back of the shop, where another boy was sitting. He was a bit round in the face, he had dusty blonde hair and a very nervous demeanor. He looked at Harry and tried to smile before giving a yelp. "Hold still dear," the woman who was sizing him said.

"Sorry," the boy said only to have the woman chuckle and reply, "I'm not the one who is getting stuck with the pin, Mr. Longbottom."

Harry feeling a little awkward at the growing silence as they were being fitted said, "Hello," he muttered quietly, "You're going to Hogwarts too?"

"Oh, yes," the boy replied, looking at his feet as if trying to think of something to say, "You have a house you want to be in?" he asked suddenly, brightening up.

"Um… Sorry?" Harry asked, confused.

"Hogwarts House, which one do you want to be in?" the boy asked, as if this clarified everything.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry said, admitting his ignorance.

"What? How can you not know? Erm, sorry, its' just... Are you muggle-born?"

"You've still lost me," Harry replied, beginning to wonder if perhaps this boy was a bit dim.

"Muggle-born, somebody whose parents are muggles, non-magical." The boy explained, sounding a little bit more confident.

"Oh, no, my parents were a witch and a wizard." Harry replied

The boy seemed to pick up on the past tense, because he said simply, "Oh," and started to explain the Hogwarts Houses, "There's four houses. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. Each one is supposed to have its' own trait… Like bravery or intelligence or kindness or something like that. Why can't I remember?"

Harry shrugged at that, causing him to get pinned and let out a yelp, "Um, I don't know, I don't really feel like any of those things."

"I know what you mean," the boy said, "Gran wants me to be Gryffindor, because that's the house my dad was in but I think she's just really glad that I'm going at all at this point. We were all really surprised that I got an invitation at all…"

"What, why?" Harry asked

"Well, I've only ever done a couple of magical things and nobody could ever get me to do any magic on purpose…" the boy responded.

"I've only ever done a couple of magical things and not on purpose." Harry said, feeling nervous but the boy seemed to brighten up substantially at that, "Really?" he asked and when Harry nodded he let out an enormous sigh. "That's such a relief."

Harry smiled at him and felt that he liked this boy quiet a bit when the woman who was fitting his robe announced she was finished. He stepped down off his stool and looked at Harry who immediately said, "I didn't catch your name."

"Neville Longbottom," Neville responded, "What about you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said and Neville's eyes widened before he stammered, "Really?" to which Harry replied, "Really."

Just then, a woman in green robes and a wizard's hat with a stuffed eagle on it said, "Neville, its' time to go." Neville snapped and turned around, waving at Harry as he left and Harry felt glad to have made a new friend.

Author's Notes: This is Not a Dark!Harry story. It is definitely a Slytherin!Harry story and I hope that I can bring something new to that genre, since this is going to end up moving towards a Friendship Fic. The next three chapters are already written and longer than this one, with the fifth chapter on its way. I've avoided rewriting the earlier sections of Harry Potter where nothing really changed. There is no conversation with Hagrid about houses.


	2. On the Train

Harry realized surprisingly quickly that he didn't know how, exactly, one got to a Platform that wasn't a proper, whole number. There was a platform nine, and a platform ten, but there weren't any platforms between them. He asked one of the people who worked there, but he just got a funny look and a laugh. It wasn't a lot of good, snooping around the platforms either – He couldn't find anything at all.

He sat there, with his luggage, his trolley, and his pet owl, for what seemed like forever to a boy like Harry, narrowly eleven years old, but then he saw an older girl, pulling a trolley much like his own, with a large, brown owl on it, and two perfectly ordinary people with her, who were most likely her parents. She was talking to her mother rather loudly, saying, "Mum, there aren't dragons at Hogwarts, that's just the school motto."

"Oh thank heavens, I was really worried for a little while there," her mother said, "Oh don't look at me like that Julian, you were worried too,"

"Only a little dear," the older man, probably the girl's father, replied coolly, "I didn't ask about it, though," he added with a wry smile.

Right at about this point, she saw Harry and noticed that he was staring, "Sorry, parents, right?" she asked and Harry just shrugged, "Oy, what's wrong?" the girl said in response to the dejected shrug, "Why haven't you gone into the platform yet?"

"I don't know the way," Harry replied looking down at his feet, somewhat miserably and feeling terribly embarrassed.

"Right, well, no need to be embarrassed then," the girl replied, "I didn't really understand the instructions they gave us either, see that wall over there?" she added, pointing, "You're just supposed to walk right through it. It isn't like it's a weird movable door or anything. I tried that for like, five minutes the first time. You just have to walk through and it'll vanish, bam, you're in Platform Nine and Three-Quarters,"

"Ok," Harry said, a little nervously.

"Look, I'll go through and then you follow, I'll help you get your stuff onto the train and everything, I know it can be a little bit intimidating when you're a muggle-born."

"What's a muggle born?" Harry asked, quizzically

"Wow, you didn't get much exposure when you went to Diagon Alley did you? A Muggle-born is someone like us, with muggle parents."

"Oh, my parents weren't muggles. They were a witch and wizard," Harry replied

"Well," the girl said, a flash of pity sparking in her eyes momentarily before she suppressed it, "It doesn't really make a difference, except in the eyes of people who are not worth mentioning and that it effects how much experience you've had with magic. And you haven't had much of that, have you?"

"No, hardly any at all," Harry replied, a certain dejection in his voice.

"Don't worry about it, Hogwarts has more than enough magic in it to make up for what we missed, growing up in the muggle world," the girl replied, and Harry couldn't help but think that she was very… peppy, "Now come on, we don't want to miss the train," she added, grabbing his hand and nearly dragging him through the portal with her, as he held onto his trolley. Her mother and father followed closely behind them, pulling her trolley along behind them.

Harry spent a moment awestruck by all the noise and people going around.

"Morgan, would you care to introduce us to your friend," her mother said, a faint smile in her eyes.

"Erm, I haven't even introduced myself yet," Morgan said, blushing, "I'm Morgan Strand and these are my mother and father, Julian and Willow Strand,"

"Um, it's very nice to meet you," Harry replied, proffering shaking his hands with each of the Strands in turn, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"Really?" Morgan said, her eyes brightening for a moment, "What's it like being famous?"

"Its' alright I guess," Harry replied, not wanting to disappoint Morgan by saying that it was actually rubbish, "But it isn't like I did anything to earn it."

"But you defeated You-Know-Who!" Morgan said

"I don't remember any of it," Harry replied.

Morgan looked as if she was about to say something else, but then seemed to think better of it and smiled, "Come on, my dad will help us load our stuff onto the train,"

"Oh I will, will I?" replied Mr. Strand, pretending to scowl, "Who says I'm going to do that?"

"I do," said Morgan happily, "Our stuff is heavy and Harry hasn't got anyone to help him load it all and he isn't any bigger than me," Harry felt a little resentful of that, but he didn't say anything – He could probably use the help.

"Alright, well, if you insist," Mr. Strand said, a smile on his face as they went to load their stuff onto the train.

With the help of Mr. Strand and Morgan, Harry got all of his stuff onto the train with very little trouble and was getting ready to climb onto the train while Morgan hugged her parents goodbye and received a small pat on the head from her father and a kiss from her mother and Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous of her for having such good parents.

"Well, Harry," Morgan said, "It was really nice meeting you. You can find your way from here I hope?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, trying to sound cool, "I think I can handle it."

"Awesome! I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" Morgan said, waving goodbye as she hopped on board.

After he climbed onto the train, Harry walked the long rows of the train, noticing the full seats in each compartment and the people obviously holding seats for a friend. Finally, he looked into one and saw a familiar face – Neville, from Madam Malkin's. He was sitting across from a rather imerpious looking boy with a badge on, who seemed to be eying him as if he were some particularly trifling pet.

Harry knocked and Neville saw him outside and excitedly waved him in as the older boy put his hands on the bridge of his nose. Harry was quickly getting the impression that he had been unhappily burdened with the boy and was putting up with it only out of some sort of obligation. Then he had an idea, "Hey, Neville. I've got another compartment and I was wondering if you'd like to come join?"

Neville opened his mouth to respond in the affirmative but the older boy scowled, "Neville, you're supposed to be here with me. Granddad said."

"Uncle Algernon? Is that why you were sitting with me?" Neville said looking hurt. Harry wasn't quite sure how Neville was so poor at reading faces that he couldn't tell his cousin didn't want him there.

"It's fine, I'm sure that they just wanted to look out for you, make sure you didn't spend the trip alone," Harry said quickly, "But I'm here, so its' fine."

The cousin looked eager to help himself out of the situation and then said, "Yeah… We were watching out for you Neville. I'd been worried, see, and Granddad agreed, but it seems like you've got a good friend here and I'd hate to be the one who stopped you from making friends. I met my best friend on the Hogwarts Express. Go on. It'll be fine," the cousin put on a genuine smile and ushered Neville onward, who bolted out the door to stand with Harry. Harry slid the compartment door closed with a nod to the cousin and then turned to Neville.

"Where's your compartment?" Neville asked eagerly, which caused Harry to make a face. He hadn't quite thought that through, fancying himself Neville's heroic rescuer when it turned out Neville seemed decently fond of his cousin.

"Haven't got one," he admitted, "But I thought it'd be more helpful to get to know people our own age."

"Yeah," Neville said, obviously trying to be cool. It wasn't really working, but Harry didn't like Neville any less for it. He seemed honest and friendly, and he really was excited to be hanging out with him. For Harry, who hadn't had a lot of friends, that counted quite a bit more than actually being cool would have.

Harry and Neville wandered the compartments for quite a bit of time before they came across a compartment that was mostly empty. There was only a single other first year, a thin, lanky boy with dark hair, and Harry and Neville thought it would be worth chancing, so they opened the sliding door, "Ah, excuse us. But all the other cabins were full, do you mind if we join you?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too needy.

The dark-haired boy gestured to the two seats across from him and turned his face towards the window, watching the train begin to pull out of the station. He waved to a man in a long, dark robe and then turned back to the other two boys. "Well, aren't you going to introduce yourselves now that you've joined my compartment."

Neville responded first, fidgeting once he sat down, and the said, "I'm Neville Longbottom," Neville said as he finally settled into the chair.

"And I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, ruffling a little at the boy's rudeness though he supposed he should have introduced himself.

"Harry Potter?" Theodore said before glancing at Harry's forehead and then raising his hand in a stopping motion, "Yes. I see the scar. Well, my name is Theodore Nott. Which houses do you think you'll be in?" he asked, which made Harry remember the unsuccessful discussion with houses he had with Neville earlier.

Neville seemed to understand because he said, "I'm just sure I'll end up in Hufflepuff... I'm not brave or smart or great at anything."

Theodore gave him a quizzical look and said, "An untalented Longbottom? I'm told the Longbottoms are extremely talented witches and wizards. Perhaps your blood just needs time to show its' true abilities."

"I hope so…" Neville said, seeming rather embarrassed to have been recognized, and then asked, "What about you Harry? What house do you think that you'll end up in?"

Harry hesitated and then said, "Err… I don't know. What are the houses again?"

Theodore Nott looked positively offended by the question before Neville replied, "There are four houses I think, there's Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and… um."

"Ravenclaw," Theodore said, heaving a sigh, "The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Hufflepuff for loyalty and fairness, Ravenclaw for curiosity and intellect, Gryffindor for courage and honor, and Slytherin, of course, is for the talented and the driven. My family's been in Slytherin for generations, and I reckon that is where I'll be."

Harry felt extremely out of his depth, "Where do you go if you don't have any of those things?" he asked worried.

"Harry," Theodore said, as if explaining to a small child, "The only way not to have at least one of those traits is to be mentally retarded."

Harry felt a mixture of offense at Theodore's tone and relief at his words, so he quickly turned the topic elsewhere, "Do either of you play Quidditch?" he said, remembering Hagrid's description of the game.

"Gran says I'd break my fool neck," Neville replied and then Theodore shook his head, "Dad says that it is 'a barbaric game on backwards transportation.'" Theodore quoted authoritatively, before suddenly leaning in excitedly, "Do you?"

"No. I was just wondering, because I'd heard about it but hadn't gotten to see it," Harry replied unevenly. This was not going very well, he thought angrily to himself.

"Haven't seen Quidditch?" Theodore askedquizzically, "How? Even I've seen Quidditch and Dad despises it."

"Harry was raised by Muggles," Neville said simply.

Theodore looked aghast, as if Neville had just told himthat Harry's parents had been brutally murdered (which of course they had, but that is besides the point), "Oh that must have been horrible, what was it- I'm sorry. I won't pry. Harry," Theodore suddenly switched as if into instructor mode, "if you want a true wizarding sport, Wizarding Duelling is one of a kind. My father was world champion, three years running from 1953-1956. It requires creativity, skill, and most importantly, magic."

"How does it work?" Harry asked, now deeply curious

"Well, obviously, it is a magical duel. But you're probably wondering the rules. Official tournament rules forbid high-end magical curses that could cause permanent damage even with the immediate attention of a mediwizard. Beyond that, the two wizards step inside a circle, and then the battle begins. There are no limits, beyond that they may use nothing but their wands and anything they conjure."

"That sounds awfully… painful." Harry replied, "And pointless."

"I guess it might sound bad, but its' fine. Dad wasn'tever badly injured, and he was in the tournament for about ten years. He said the best duelists relied on surprise, not brute force. He even spun it into a successful franchise, when he was younger, running a dueling supply store. Then he met Mum, settled down and had me."

After that, the three boys had no problem exchanging conversation, talking about interests, subjects that they were learning (Neville looked forward to Herbology. Theodore wanted to learn a lot in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he was also interested in Potions.). There wasn't a lot of talk about family, because both Neville and Harry nervously skated around the topic like it was especially painful and Theodore wasn't naturally forthcoming on the matter himself.

Eventually a sweets cart rolled around and Harry purchased enough for the three of them. "You can't buy friendship with money," Theodore had quoted to him, "But this is a really good try."

"I'm not trying to buy your friendship," Harry said defensively

"Didn't say you were," Theodore noted, apologetically, "Look, Harry, you were raised by Muggles, so you may not have noticed this yet but here in the wizarding world, you're sort of universally beloved, everybody is going to want to be your friend"

"Is that why you want to be my friend?" Harry asked, worried.

"I didn't say if I wanted to be your friend yet, I've got to see if you've got the stuff first" Theodore replied, a wry smile on his face that Harry quickly repaid. Just then, and at first Harry didn't believe what he was seeing, a large chocolate frog jumped in front of Harry's face and across the table and then quickly leapt out the window, ribbiting the whole way.

"What was that?" Harry exclaimed in wonder

"Chocolate frog," Neville said, "Gran says they're a scam because they always run off, guess I should have been watching out better but I've never gotten to actually have one and I was so excited…"

"It's alright Neville, here, let me show you two how its' done," Theodore replied cockily, popping open a chocolate frog and then pinning the frog with his finger before he fully unwrapped the package and then wrapping the frog in his finger, "Course, sometimes they still get loose. That's why you've got to eat the head first," Theodore asserted authoritatively, biting off the head with the sort of savage pleasure possessed only by ruthless killers, wild animals and children.

"What's that?" Harry said, pointing at the hard, shining bottom of the chocolate frog card where there appeared to be face.

"Chocolate frog card," Neville said, "Lots of kids collect them,"

"This one's Dumbledore," Theodore said, pulling it out to toss it to Harry "It's a little bit overly glowing, but you know. It's got his work with Flamel on here, his defeat of Grindelwald, things like that."

Harry stared down at the picture of a man who he thought looked very much like a wizard should (and from what he had seen, that meant he looked rather odd, even by wizarding standards). He had a long beard and twinkling blue eyes and a tall, pointy hat. He had been staring at the picture for a few moments when he thought he saw the picture wink at him. "Did, did he just wink at me?" Harry asked, startled

"Yeah, course he did, you don't expect him to just stand there do you?" Neville asked

"Neville, obviously he hasn't seen a proper photograph before," Theodore said, trying to come to Harry's defense

"But I've seen muggle pictures move before when we went into town and past the store fronts," Neville replied evenly

"Um, there are moving pictures in the muggle world but they're usually on the telly or big projector screens like the movie theater, not little bitty things like- wait, where'd he go?"

"Oh, pictures and portraits move from portrait to portrait, picture to picture, less so with pictures, but even pictures get bored just standing still all the time," Neville said

"Yeah, when wizards take pictures and paint portraits we put a little magic in them to make them seem more alive, you know?" Theodore said, "Course they aren't really human or anything, but it is a bit comforting."

Eventually, the three boys got around to the subject of chess, "Of course, Harry probably hasn't got any idea what chess even is," Theodore asserted sagely and began to explain the rules, "Pawns can move one space forward, except on their first move-"

"Theodore, I know how to play chess," Harry said, adopting the very tone Theodore had used to explain the movement of the pieces.

"But how?" Theodore said suspiciously, "I thought you were raised by muggles."

"Muggles have chess," Harry said, beginning to get a little bit annoyed at Theodore's condescension.

"Really? How do they get the pieces to move?" Theodore asked, intrigued by this news.

"With their hands…" Harry said, feeling as if this was horribly obvious – How else did one move pieces in a game?

"Ah. Yes. Real chess pieces move on their own, Harry." Theodore said imperiously, "Neville, have you got a set? Maybe we can show him a game."

"No," Neville demurred, "Gran says she shouldn't want to be so harsh to the pieces. I'm rubbish at chess."

"That's too bad…" Theodore said, looking down, "I'll get out my set, they can do maneuvers for you. I'm just warning you, my knights are fierce." Harry watched as, eyes bright, Theodore grabbed a long, black box from beneath his seat and opened it, pulling out the pieces and a fold up board. He laid the board out carefully and then began to set out the pieces. The knights were fierce, the horses stamped in place while the knights on top of them leaned in, looking ready to strike at any moment.

After a bit, Theodore began giving orders to his orders, "Knight to E5. Pawn to B4. Pawn to E4. King to E2." At this, Harry heard a tiny wail, "Oh, what an ignoble way to idle the days of I, a king!" The king said, as if lamenting some horrible defeat. For a moment, Harry felt a little bit of sympathy, but the self-pitying wailing of the king overtook him and he, Neville and Theodore all burst out laughing.

After awhile, Harry and Neville and Theodore were all hopelessly stuffed and a happy sort of tired. The trio might have fallen asleep from there but they were interrupted by the opening of their compartment door and the striding entrance of three boys, the blond leader walked in imperiously and announced, "I've been hearing rumors up and down the train and I had to come and see for myself, are you really Harry Potter?"

Before Harry had any sort of chance to marvel at this incredibly rude introduction, Theodore stepped forward, his irritation hidden beneath a row of smiling, white teeth. "Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you," he said extending his hand, "You may simply refer to me as 'My lord,' of course, that is simple enough."

"There's no need to be a prig, Theo." The boy replied, looking sullen and irritated.

"Nor is there any need to be a barbarian. Introduce yourself first, then inquire after others, Draco." Theodore replied firmly.

"Right, I'm sorry." Draco said without the slightest hint of sincerity while looking incredibly sullen, "I am Draco Malfoy. Are you really Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Harry replied. He got the impression that Theodore had rather viciously taken the wind from the boy's sails, but he also thought that Draco seemed like a bit of a brat.

"Well," he said after a moment, "It is good to see you taking in a good stock of company. The Notts are an exceptionally fine family, you should be glad to have made such an acquaintance. You are?' he asked, gesturing at Neville, at last seeming to notice his presence.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville replied, eying Malfoy with something like disgust. Harry was puzzled by the reaction of the generally well-mannered boy

"Ah, the Longbottoms, yes. Not a bad family by any means. They understand the old ways," Malfoy said, trying to ease of the look of intense dislike on Neville's face. "You see Harry, you need someone who can help you navigate the vast waters of the Wizarding World, after having been in seclusion for so long."

"I can pick friends on my own just fine, thank you," Harry replied, "Now if you could leave, I need to change into my school robes, and I don't fancy you gawking at me like a fish."

"Watch your mouth Potter," Malfoy replied, "The inability to recognize their betters got your parents killed."

There was an incredibly tense moment before Theodore stepped between Harry and Malfoy, so that he was standing so close to Malfoy that he could touch his chest merely by pivoting his elbow. He proceeded to stick a finger into Malfoy's chest, "It was a mouth like that gotyour father under such deep suspicion before he was cleared, Malfoy. Go your merry way and be grateful for the Potters' noble sacrifice to save our world and give our families their freedoms."

Malfoy's pale skin was suddenly flush, "I'm sorry,Potter. I shouldn't have said that," he said before pivotingand gesturing to his goons (Harry couldn't think of any other description for the tall, quiet young lads who were with Malfoy) and they left the room. Theodore, meanwhile, collapsed into a chair, resting his forehead in his fingers as if trying to suppress a terrible headache.

"Well. He's a prick," Harry opined, feeling as if he should say something.

"He's not just any prick, that's Draco Malfoy. His father was a death eater, but he got off because he claimed to be imperiused, as if the Malfoys were ever anything but devoted followers of the Dark Lord," Neville said.

"Imperiused?" Harry asked, curious

"The Imperius curse is an unforgiveable curse. It can force people to do things against their wills. It was part of what made the last war so terrible – Nobody could truly betrusted," Theodore said, "My own father and mother had languished beneath its chains for over a decade before you defeated the Dark Lord. When the war was over, there was terrible confusion. Many claimed to have been gripped by the Imperius curse, but there were dark and, in some cases, persistent rumors that there were those who exploited this terrible curse as an excuse to cover their own crimes."

"The Malfoys' aren't a rumor! Everybody knows," Neville declared forcefully.

"That's not necessarily true, Neville," Theodore said wearily, "And even if it is, what good would it do? Nearly a tenth of the wizarding world were counted at as Voldemort's forces, voluntarily or by coercion. Even if the Malfoys were guilty, it isn't going to make the wizardingworld any safer to put them in prison. The Dark Lord is gone. We must gather the pieces of our world if it is going to heal."

Neville folded his arms in a huff, "But it still isn't right," he said angrily.

"I'm not saying it is," Theodore said in a long, slow voice, "Just inevitable. Anyway, Draco isn't always such an annoying dunderhead, but he'll push you around, giventhe chance. I recommend not giving one."

Harry nodded sagely, taking all of it in. It seemed rotten that people would use something so horrible to cover up for their own sins and he wondered if it was true of the Malfoys'. He also wondered if anyone had gone to jail who really had been imperiused. But before long, he remembered that he had to put on his robes and get ready.He got up and hurried into his school robes, having just heard the announcement that the Train would be arriving in five minutes. He could see that Neville and Theodore were both worried, Theodore having turned very pale indeed and Neville having managed to trip over his robes several times.

Eventually, they all managed to get ready in time and Neville even managed to gain only one or two minor bruises from his clumsiness. He, Theodore, and Harry all clambered off the Train together to hear a booming and, for Harry at least, familiar voice from further down the court, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Alright there, Harry?"Hagrid said, his big hairy face beaming over the sea of heads, "C'mon, follow me – Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now!" he shouted

Harry felt this was a very appropriate bit of advice as they tried to follow Hagrid down a very steep, very narrow path and they all seemed to hold their breath (except Neville, who was puffing a little bit) as they tried not fall or run into anyone because it was really dark. Then they came into view of the castle, Hagrid had warned them it was coming of course, but it didn't exactly prepare one for actually seeing it.

After a moment of awe, Harry realized he was gaping like a fish and, remembering that he was next to two people who'd lived with magic their whole lives, he closed his mouth and tried to look cool. But he needn't have bothered, neither Neville nor Theodore looked any cooler than he had, their mouths hanging open in awe as they stared up at the legendary castle where they would be living for the next seven years.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid yelled as they camp up to the shore of a great black lake.

Harry, Neville, and Theodore all clambered into a boat and soon, they were off towards the castle. Everyone was silent as the boats sailed across the smooth water of the lake, which was disturbed tonight only by the presence of the boats themselves. They came into a tiny, stone harbor after a little while

Soon, they were on the way up the cold stone steps to the castle, climbing to a great door at the front of the castle. "Ready?" Hagrid asked, sweeping his eyes over the entire crowd of children with a smile and then said, "Alrighty,"before someone in the group got any chance to admit their stark terror and knocked three times on the castle door.


	3. Your True Friends

A tall, stern looking woman in emerald green robes opened the door and greeted them. Harry's immediate instinct was that this wasn't someone you wanted to cross. She and Hagrid exchanged very terse comments and then she opened the door wide to the entrance hall. It was so big you could easily have nestled a good sized house there. Flaming torches lit the room and the ceiling seemed almost as tall as sky to Harry. There was a great marble staircase there as well, facing them, which must have lead to the upper floors.

Quickly, they started following Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floors. Harry could hear the drone of a lot of voices, maybe hundreds of them, from a doorway to the right but they didn't go into it. Instead, Professor McGonagall lead them into a chamber that was honestly a little cramped for first years. They crowded in and Professor McGonagall gave them a little speech about the Sorting and the Houses and mentioned the system of punishment that used House Points to punish and reward the students. But Harry's mind was still on the Sorting when she turned to go prepare for the Sorting.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Theodore worriedly

"No idea," Theodore replied, "Dad says it's a Hogwarts tradition to go in shaking like a leaf."

Harry turned quizzically to Neville who also nervous, "Gran said, 'You don't get to know, you've got to be surprised or it might all be ruined.'"

After the first brief storm of muttering, nobody seemed to want to talk. Everybody was nervous and worried. Harry saw one girl standing next to a red haired boy and muttering furiously to herself, but Harry wasn't sure what she was muttering about or who she was muttering to. Harry couldn't remember ever being this nervous before in his life, although that is how it always is with nerves (especially if those nerves involve women) and it is unlikely that this was actually the most anxious time of his life. Any minute now, Professor McGonagall was going to come back and lead him to his doom.

Just then, a collective set of gasps, jumps and screams distracted Harry from his worries as about twenty ghosts passed through the back wall into the room. They were discussing somebody named Peeves and whether or not to give him another chance. One of the ghosts stared at the students, as if he had been rudely interrupted and hadn't just walked into the room and scared some of them (especially the muggleborns) half to death. "What are you doing here?" he said, irritated.

None of the students seemed to find the courage to answer but, mercifully, one of the ghosts said, "New students?" he said, "About to be sorted?" Theodore and several students nodded respectfully in response. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the merciful ghost.

"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall who had just returned, "The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." The ghosts seemed to agree with Harry's assessment that she wasn't someone to be crossed because they all left through the opposite wall in a slight rush. "Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGonagallcommanded the students.

Harry got into line with Theodore and Neville, and it was a lucky thing that the boys were so nervous because it kept them all from the foolish sort of vying for that first position that children love so much for no particular reason. The line followed Professor McGonagall out to the hall again and then through the large, double doors that went into the Great Hall.

Although Harry hadn't ever heard the name Great Hallbefore, if he had he would have felt it a very fitting name. He hadn't imagined such a fantastic place could even exist. Thousands and thousands of candles filled the hall with light as they floated without any kind of suspension over the four tables where all of the students were sitting. Golden goblets and golden plates were all over both those tables and the long one where the teachers sat, facing the students. Of course, that's where Professor McGonagall took them and lined them all up to be gawked at by the silent, lantern like faces of all of the other students.

In order to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked up at the ceiling and saw the night sky, dotted with stars, hanging above him instead of a ceiling. For a moment, he wondered how that worked if it was raining but then he decided it must be magic. Besides, there would be time to investigate that when everyone wasn't staring at him.

It was only then that he realized that eyes had shifted toward a stool on which Professor McGonagall was placing a patched, frayed, and dirty pointed old wizard's hat. Harry couldn't help but think that Aunt Petunia wouldn't have approved of it. This wasn't purely because she was Aunt Petunia, your mother might have had issues with it as well.

Harry wondered if they would have to pull a rabbit out of it. He stared at the Hat with the rest of the hall before something amazing happened, perhaps one of the most peculiar things he had seen in the past twenty four hours (though, Harry had to admit, it was getting hard to say). The hat began to sing.

It sang a song about the four houses, introducing itself and then describing the traits of each house in turn. Harry was very relieved that the method of house choosing was just trying on a hat, but he rather wished that he hadn't had to do it in front of everyone. The only thing he felt at the moment was a bit queasy, not brave, quick-witted, just, or cunning.

So the students started to be called alphabetically. Harry resigned himself as being rather far down the list. Draco Malfoy and his two friends all ended up in Slytherin, but so did Theodore. The hat seemed to take an especially long time in placing Neville, which was unfortunate because he looked like the most unhappy to be up there. Eventually, however, the Hat cried out "GRYFFINDOR!" and Neville was welcomed to thunderous applause.

Eventually, Harry's own name was called and a storm of whispers swept across the room. "Harry potter" was echoed by voices of young children and those on the cusp of adulthood. Everyone was craning to see Harry, which Harry rather wished wasn't the last thing he saw before the Sorting Hat dropped over his eyes.

"Hmm…" said a small voice in his ear, "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness yes - And a nice thirst to prove yourself. So where shall I put you?"

I don't know, thought Harry, very grateful that the Hat seemed to think that he belonged there.

"Of course," replied the voice in his ear, "Of course you belong here. So… So… Gryffindor or Slytherin I think. You've got a healthy disregard for rules, so that seems best. Lets see… Do you want to make something of yourself? Do you want to be great, Harry?"

Of course I want to be great, Harry thought, Who wouldn't want to be great?

"Who wouldn't want to be great indeed," the Hat whispered in his ear, "Certainly nobody in SLYTHERIN!"

Harry wobbled over to Slytherin, hearing the thunderous sound of their hoops and hollers and wondering momentarily why he was being welcomed so loudly and warmly welcomed before he remembered that he was, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived and began to question whether his response to the Hat had been entirely wise. Being great wasn't all it was cracked up to be, as he was continually discovering.

Because Slytherin is the house of the cunning and alsobecause it is the house of the ambitious, Harry found himself rather uncomfortably nestled between an older boy and girl and across from several of their friends, a long way from Theodore, who seemed to have wound up sitting near a couple of older lads whom he knew through his father.

The rest of the sorting proceeded unremarkably, Harry being the last Slytherin boy added to the table. Harry looked wistfully across the table, trying to catch Theodore's eyes but couldn't get the right angle. He eventually settled for looking at the teacher's table as the students waiting to be called dwindled down to nothing. As his nerves waned, however, his hunger waxed and he began to wonder when they were going to get a chance to eat. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise," was sorted into Ravenclaw and Harry saw the girl across from him proffer her hand, "Charis Hawthorn," she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Harry."

Harry was about to speak and say that he was glad to meet her as well (although really, he'd have rather been down with Theodore… How had he gotten wrangled into this position?) when a man stood up from the teacher's table to greet them. The man, Harry recognized him from the card, was Albus Dumbledore. He stood with arms wide open as if nothing could make him happier than to have all the students there with him and the other teachers.

"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Before we begin our feast, I would just like to say a few words and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddball! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Erm, what was that?" Harry asked, confused

"I heard from my dad that the last headmaster would drone on and on forever," Charis remarked, as if that explained everything.

"Why does that matter?" Harry asked, feeling like an idiot.

"Dumbledore doesn't do the welcoming speeches because students hate them," the girl to Harry's right, "He's got a sharp sense of what endears him to the students. Sly man, Dumledore, never figured out why he wasn't in Slytherin."

"What house was Dumbledore in?" Harry said

"Gryffindor," the boy sitting on Harry's left replied, "We can't have all the greatest wizards and witches, Moriah"

"Or all the worst, Anthony" Moriah remarked

"Gah!" cried Charis, frustrated, "No politics! Zip. Zilch. This is dinner, not a wizengamot session. "

"Wizengamot?" Harry asked, feeling as if he hadn't been properly prepared for the Wizarding World at all.

"Didn't they teach you anything in seclusion?" Charis asked, "Dad thought you were being groomed as a magical king or something, in all likelihood."

"Ah, no," Harry replied, thinking that he was probably going to disappoint a lot of people, "I was raised by my aunt and uncle, actually."

"Wow, so do you really not know anyone then, anyone at all?" Anthony said

"No!" Harry replied, feeling very defensive but also fairly certain that this wasn't going to end well.

"Who do you know?" Anthony asked

"I've met Hagrid, he's the one who took me to Diagon Alley, and Morgan Strand, she helped me onto the train, and I've met Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy, who are boys in my year, and Neville Longbottom."

"Well, the last three is a lucky shot, the Longbottoms, Notts and Malfoys are very respectable families," Anthonyreplied, "Strand is a prissy little muggleborn, though, and Hagrid… I mean, what else needs to be said really?" and Harry couldn't help but really dislike the boy.

Charis seemed to catch his dislike for Anthony almost immediately and tried to manuever him away from it, "How'd you meet that trio?"

"I sat with Neville and Theodore on the train," Harry replied and Charis laughed warmly, "What's so funny?"Harry asked hotly

"That's the classic story of how everyone met at Hogwarts," she says, "True love? Best friend forever? Worst enemy? Everybody meets on the train,"

"Think that me and Malfoy are going to be enemies," Harry replied

"A pity that," Charis remarked, "He really does come from a very respectable family, but that's the way it goes sometimes,"

"Why does everybody keep talking about families like their respectable or not respectable or any such nonsense?" Harry said aggressively, "My family's toss, at least everyone I know in it is, and I turned out alright,"

"Well…" Charis began delicately.

Unluckily, Delicately was a big word which Anthony would not learn for quite some time (girls usually get that one first), "Some people have mud for blood, Harry," Harry shot him a glare at the use of his proper name, "They've got no real magic to them, they're the dregs and the cast-offs of our society, leeching off those of us who have magic and money."

Harry felt nothing but disgust at all of this, remembering Uncle Vernon ranting and rallying about the underclasses and his own mother and father, and said, "Look. Shut up. I don't want to hear it, alright?" then, noticing the way the others were eying him with a mixture of fear and shock, added for good measure, "I'm not going to tolerate that kind of talk when I'm around."

Charis nodded her head, "We'll let the word out, Harry, no need to worry," and she glared at Anthony as if to put the emphasis (and blame) on him. Anthony flushed incredibly red and Harry felt suddenly like he had authority and power here which made him a mixture of uncomfortable and glad because, if this school was full of people like Malfoy and Anthony, he was going to need it.

The rest of the meal passed with quiet pleasantries and discussion of classes. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was new, just returned from a year of adventuring and hoping to prove a good teacher. The Potions Master was the head of house, "He's a tough grader, to be sure, and he has no toleration whatsoever for idiots," Moriah remarked, "But if you get on his good side, he'll really go to bat for you – Advance advice? Read ahead beforepotions class."

McGonagall was noted by Anthony as, "Very strict, but she's got a good heart. Also incredibly impartial, never been a fairer head of house, which is good because we never get on with Gryffindor in Slytherin."

"Neville's in Gryffindor," Harry said, a little worried that his friendship might be in danger.

"Good," Charis said, a smoothness to her voice, "Maybe you and he can tamp down on the ridiculousness that usually occurs between Gryffindor and Slytherin first years."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked

"Well, we compete for house points and the house cup, but Gryffindor and Slytherin firsties are always tossing one another under the bus and bringing down both houses totals! We'd win every year if the first years weren't busy being idiots."

Then Dumbledore got up and gave a speech about the rules, including mentioning a list that was hung in the caretaker's office to which Anthony muttered, "Nobody is going to go there to look." And saying that the third floor corridor and the forest outside were both strictly off limits.

He then led the school song (which was terrible and sounded terrible, absolutely without rhythm) which two boys from Gryffindor dragged out for a very long time, and dismissed the students. Harry was summoned by a prefect and got up to get in line, "See you later, Harry," Charis said and Harry only nodded assent. He wasn't sure the relationship was one which he would be interested in maintaining in the future, but she had been nice enough and he didn't want to be rude.

He squeezed into line between a girl and Theodore, who immediately asked him how his dinner had been.

"So-so," Harry replied, "Charis is nice enough but Anthony was a prig. What about you?"

"Bit boring, the older boys spent most of their time catching up," Theodore said.

Harry grunted assent and they followed the Slytherin prefect down into the dungeons, when they reached the house entryway, the prefect announced, "The passowrd is venom," with a coldness that was not at all befitting someone set over a group of young, frightened children. They entered the common room and tromped to their rooms rather quietly, each sat down on their beds. Draco stood up awkwardly and said, "Um, Look, Potter, about the train, I guess I should probably apologize again. I don't know why I lashed out like that… Just nerves, I guess, but since we're going to be living together and everything, I was wondering if you'd maybe be willing to start again."

There was an awkward moment before Harry stood up and offered his hand to Draco, "Sure," he replied, glad to have the chance to clear the air, "I'd be up for that."

"Thank goodness," Draco said with a smile, "I'd hate to have an enemy sleeping next to me, after all,"

"Yeah. That would be really awkward," Harry replied before turning to Draco's 'goons', "Hi, I'm Harry,"

"Gregory Goyle," one of the boys replied.

"Vincent Crabbe," the other said politely, extending his hand, "Its good to meet you."

"Good to meet you," Harry said happily.

Soon, they were all clambering into their beds, thoughts of their next day classes clouding their minds as they drifted into sleep.

Harry was awoken in the middle of the night by someone shaking him awake forcefully, "Time to get up, ickle-firstie," the voice said. Harry stared up out of bed at the person standing over him, a man wearing a silver-and-green mask and holding a softly shining wand in the air, and resisted the urge to scream, "Are you ready to become a real Slytherin?" the man asked, in a voice that was clearly meant to be scary but Harry thought was a little ridiculous.

Harry nodded and the man beckoned him out of bed. All the other beds were had a clearly already awake first year sitting in them, looking white as a sheet under the light from the wand. Draco was standing quietly in the center of the room obviously just awoken as well, "Come on, you two," the man said, aggressively urging them outside.

They went down to the common room, which was largely empty but lit on all sides by green and white light. There was a smooth glass jar in the center of the room, full, as far as Harry could tell, of stones. Harry and Draco were ushered over to it and the man directed them, "Each of you is to put your hand in the bowl," and they put their hands in the bowl, "Now, you must keep your hands inside the bowl. You cannot remove it until I tell you and you must not squirm, am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Draco responded, his face calm.

Harry nodded his head slowly. Then the man touched the bowl with the tip of his wand and muttered a word Harry didn't understand and suddenly all of the rocks were snakes. They twisted in the bowl around Harry's hand, but he wasn't going to give before Draco did, who was turning paler by the second. Slowly, surely, the snakes began to climb onto both of their hands and out of the bowl and Draco started to do something that seemed very much like praying. Harry wasn't going to give, he wasn't going to be scared, he wasn't…

But it was so hard, the snakes were climbing up his arm and winding around his chest and he was scared. Draco screamed and pulled his hand out of the bowl and Harry tried his best not to let the fear spread to him but he started to mutter, "Please get off, please get off," and then the snakes just… slid off. They went down to the floor or the bowl with a curteous, "Yess" to Harry. Harry watched them go with astonishment. The man and Draco both stared at Harry.

"You're… You're the heir of slytherin!" the man said with alarm

"I'm the what?" Harry said

"The Heir of Slytherin! You're a parselmouth!" the man said, "You're the descendant of Salazaar himself!"

Draco just looked flushed with terror, "The Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin," he said, staring at Harry with eyes wide.

The man took of the green and silver mask to reveal the face of a seventh year, "I'm Victor Stoikean, it's a honor… Sir. You must speak with Professor Snape as soon as possible," he said, "Now both of you to bed…" he instructed them, vanishing the snakes.

The next day, he got up and went to breakfast, where he ate, staring up at Professor Snape (who Theo identified for him) but without a way to go up discretely, it might have brought more attention to him.

He and Theo went to classes until lunch and, just as he was about to enter the Great Hall, Professor Snape barked at him from down the hall, "Mr. Potter! Come with me!" Harry looked at Theo, who pinched his nose and then told him to go on ahead.

Professor Snape, Harry thought, looked absolutelyunpleasant. He was thin, greasy haired and pale, with a hookish nose and a vicious scowl that seemed to indicate that Harry was in very big trouble indeed. Snape walked at a strong clip with Harry behind him, muttering furiously about "bigheaded Potters."

Eventually they rounded into his office and the door shut behind them and it was only Harry and Snape andSnape blew up, "What in Merlin's name were you thinking! Claiming to be the heir of slytherin! Speaking parseltongue! Did you think you'd show off a bit, impress your classmates and cow them? Couldn't have just gone through Viper Night like the rest of us, no, you had to strut! You had to dance and whirl!"

Throughout all of this impassioned screaming, Harry became increasingly frightened and, slowly, angry. It wasn't his fault that he had some weird magical talent! It wasn't his fault that everybody thought that he was some sort of ultra-special Slytherin Heir or any of that, "I didn't know what was happening!" he burst out

Do not! Do not interrupt me while I am speaking Mr. Potter," Professor Snape retorted, "Do you have any idea what you have done? I have already had to obliviate a seventh year! How many more, Mr. Potter? Who else knows?"

"Draco!" Harry said angrily "But I didn't even know I was a parselmouth or whatever until last night!"

"You… You did not?" Professor Snape said, taken aback by Harry's response

"I mean, I had spoken to snakes," Harry said, "But I didn't know that meant anything,"

"It means a very great deal," Professor Snape growled, his voice sharp and angry, "It means that the others will recognize you as sort of Slytherin-savior, will try to shape you and mould you into their image."

"Professor Snape," Harry said hesitatingly, "Victorsaid that Voldemort-"

"Do not say the dark lord's name!" Professor Snape barked.

"Sorry," Harry said, a bit defensive, "He said that You-Know-Who was the Heir of Slytherin, and the wand-maker said my wand was the same as his, and I don't really want to grow up to be like… him."

Harry couldn't quite make out what was happening on Professor Snape's face now. It seemed to be trying desperately to shape itself an expression that had long sinceexited his repertoire. "I do not think that likely," he said, finally.

"Why not?" Harry asked

Professor Snape's face returned to his normal scowl, "Because I do not think that the Dark Lord would have ever worried about such things."

"What is the Heir of Slytherin supposed to do?"

"Oh, the stories are all different," Snape replied, "Cleanse the school of muggle-borns, for one thing,"

"Muggle-born? Why don't you call them mudbloods like everybody else?"

Harry might have misinterpreted it, but Snape seemed to flash a measure of disgust across his face. "Mr. Potter," Professor Snape replied, "I would remind you that your own mother was a muggle-born and warn you not to use such language, it is not acceptable."

"But everyone in Slytherin does it," Harry said.

"Then," Professor Snape replied, a firmness entering his voice that had no trace of malice, "do not be like everyone in Slytherin." For some reason, this command, more than any other, sunk into Harry rather hard and he felt as if his earlier behavior was reprehensible. Harry looked down at his feet in shame and resolved to not use that word again. Snape continued on as if nothing had happened, returning to his less friendly tone, "The other boys in your year, they know of your gift?"

Harry nodded and Professor Snape grimaced, "Do not mention it to them again and I will handle it as best I can," he said, "Leave, Mr. Potter. And do try to keep your head down, this has caused no end of trouble for me," he finished with acid in his voice.

Harry nodded and left and couldn't help but wonder if Professor Snape hated him or not.

Harry had to skip lunch and go straight to Transfiguration, which he entered to the sight of a cat sitting on the table. He sat down awkwardly, being the last of his classmates to come in, and was astonished to see the cat turn into Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. Needless to say, he paid good attention for the rest of the lesson. He did a decent job, but he looked over at Theo to see that he had almost completely finished his transfiguration of a pen into a needle. "How'd you do that?" Harry asked.

Theo shrugged modestly, frustratedly trying to get the transfiguration to open at the end.

Professor McGonagall came over to their table and smiled at Theo, "That is an excellent transfiguration Mr. Nott, very few are able to complete a transfiguration on their first day" she said encouragingly, "You have a real gift, five points to Slytherin. Mr. Potter, you've done fairly well. Remember to focus on the goal and take the spell through each step toward that goal. You seem to be taking two steps forward and then one step back with your transfiguration, so it isn't holding." Harry nodded diligently to Professor McGonagall, though he thought to himself that Theo was abnormally gifted in ALL of their classes.

Later on, when classes were over, Harry ran into Neville on his way to the library and his heart leapt for joy, "Neville!" he said happily, "How has Gryffindor treated you?"

"Well enough, I guess," he answered, "All the other boys are all grouped up and I haven't got any friends at all."

"We're friends," he said motioning between him and Neville.

"Yeah," Neville replied, somewhat glumly, "I just wanted to have some friends in my own house, I guess."

"Look, tomorrow is potions and we've got that class together, so we can go study for it. I heard that Professor Snape is a very difficult instructor," Harry continued, trying to cheer Neville up, "Theo thought we should study for it and I'm sure he'd be happy to see you too."

"Okay," Neville said, cheering a little at the idea of studying with Harry. Harry and he went to the library and met up with Theo there, who already had his potions text out and was marking it up, making notes about various parts of it. He looked up at them and smiled, "Hey Neville," he said in a quiet but distinctively cheerful voice.

"Hey Theo," Neville replied, pulling out his own text book and beginning to look over it.

"How's Gryffindor treating you?" Theo asked, holding his finger between two pages.

Neville shrugged, "It isn't too bad, what about you and Slytherin?"

"Good enough," Theo said modestly, "You studying potions with us?"

"Yeah," Neville said. Theo nodded to that and turned back down towards his books.

They were reading about half an hour and Neville was already starting to get a headache from all the wolfsbanes, eyes of newt, and pixie dust attributes and the nature of the potion and everything that was in the first chapter. "Does any of this make any sense to you at all?" Neville asked, frustrated.

"No," Harry demured, putting his head against the desk.

"Really?" Theo said, "It isn't all abundantly clear?"

Harry shook his head, "Not at all," he said dejectedly.

"Look, its simple really," Theo said authoritatively, drawing the book out, "There are basically four elements to any potion brewed - Time, Objects, Magic, and Motion. Each one is important and they all influence one another."

Harry sort of squinted at Theo, "What does that even mean?" he asked.

At this, Theo launched into a extraordinarily dense spiel that neither Neville nor Harry could understand a single word of. In the end, Harry shrugged, "I'll take your word for it mate," he said, and Theo just looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.

"What are we supposed to know?" Neville said, dejectedly, "I mean, what's he going to ask us about on the first day?"

"Don't know, but the upperclassmen hinted that answering questions on the first day is pretty much the only way to end up in his good graces," Harry said, "And I don't think he has a lot of good graces to him."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, I met him today, and I'm pretty sure his scowl is glued on,"

Neville seemed frightened by that, "You've already met your head of house? Why?"

"Oh, uh, just a bit of hazing, trying to scare us, that didn't go over well, its fine, I'm not in trouble or anything," Harry replied, feeling terrible for lying to Neville.

"Wow. I'm glad they didn't haze us or anything in Gryffindor," Neville said, "I'd have probably completely embarrassed myself and brought shame on the whole house in the process."

"I'm sure you'd have done fine, Neville," Harry said, trying to reassure his friend.

"No I wouldn't have! I'm scared of everything, I should never have been in Gryffindor," he said, shrinking to a mumble as Madam Pince shot him an angry glare for shouting.

"Look, I feel a bit odd in Slytherin right, but we're gonna get through this, okay?" Harry responded, trying to be reassuring but failing rather hard, and since he didn't know what else to say after that, he just sort of looked down at his book and started reading over potions ingredients again and their various properties. He hoped that Neville started to fit into Gryffindor and he worried that he wasn't going to fit into Slytherin any better.

By the time of their potions class the next day, Neville's anxiety had gotten worse, not better, and Harry begged off sitting with Theo to sit with him, so that Theoended up sitting with a bushy haired Gryffindor girl who was jabbering endlessly and the other Gryffindors were avoiding.

The whole classroom was rather tense, twenty students and no teacher, when Professor Snape walked into the room. He looked positively terrifying. His eyes cast about the classrom and he nodded menacingly. He gave a long speech to the class about how he could teach them many things, including how to stopper death, presuming they did not turn out to be the "usual bunch of dunderheads that I ordinarily teach."

He then turned to Harry, "Ah, Mr. Potter, our new celebrity," he looked down at Harry, "Do not think that your fame will win you any favors in my classroom," Harry nodded politely, though privately he wondered if his other professors would ever favor him because of his fame and he quickly dismissed the possibility of Professor McGonagall doing any such thing. "Now, Mr. Potter, if you could please share with the class, what is the other name for Monkshood?"

"Wolfsbane, Professor Snape," Harry responded, trying to be on his best behavior.

Something very much like a smile flashed across Professor Snape's face, "Very good Mr. Potter, a point to Slytherin for your efforts. Remember that it is skill that will be rewarded in this class." Harry nodded his assent. Best not to get on his head of house's bad side twice in one week. He turned to address the whole class, "This is the potion that you will be producing this class period," and with a flick of his wand the instructions appeared on the board, "Begin preparing, it will no doubt be beyond most of your meager skills."


End file.
